


Four Weekends at Bobby's

by notyouranswer (gorgeouschaos)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, POV Bobby Singer, Parental Bobby Singer, Pre-Canon, Pre-Season/Series 01, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 02:58:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20789465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gorgeouschaos/pseuds/notyouranswer
Summary: Four times John Winchester drops Dean and Sam at Bobby's.The first time ends with hugs from the boys. The last time ends with a shotgun pointed at John.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for John Winchester's canonically negligent/generally shitty parenting, as well as Bobby's canon childhood and some physical child abuse. 
> 
> On a lighter note: this has been in the works for a while and I'm happy to finally have finished it. If you enjoy, please consider leaving kudos or comments-- feedback makes my day and also provides motivation :)

The first time John drops the boys off, Dean’s seven, Sam’s three, and Karen’s been dead for eight years.

John’s barely at the house long enough to shove the two boys at Bobby, give him the location of the hunt, and tell him that Dean don’t talk much but he can take care of Sam. Bobby stares after the Impala as John speeds off and then looks at the boy’s he’s just been assigned. 

Sam is big for his age-- Bobby thinks, anyway, he doesn’t exactly spend much time with kids-- and he’s got his head turned after his daddy like he can bring John back through sheer power of will.

Dean is tall too, looks like, even though he’s scrawny, and Bobby’s first look tells him this kid might look a little funny now but he’s gonna be real popular with the ladies when he grows up.

Dean scowls at the scrutiny, steps in front of his brother, and Bobby feels a sudden surge of anger at John Winchester ‘cause no kid should have eyes that old. Bobby might have, but that doesn’t mean it’s anywhere near okay.

The Impala’s out of sight though, so Bobby buries that feeling deep.

Dean’s watching Bobby warily, one small hand gripping Sam’s, and Bobby picks up the small, battered duffels John left.

“Come on in, then,” he says gruffly. “You two can have the bedroom upstairs.”

\---

“Dean don’t talk much” was an understatement, Bobby thinks that night, collapsed in an armchair with a beer. The kid had barely said a word all dinner, responding to any questions with a nod or a shake of his head. In contrast, Sam is quite the talker, full of questions about everything but especially Bobby’s books. He’s three, so some of his questions are indecipherable to Bobby, but Dean usually speaks up after Sam gets frustrated.

Bobby wonders if John needs Dean to translate Sam too.

In a way it’s a relief Dean does everything for Sam-- Bobby wasn’t looking forward to reading bedtime stories or feeding a picky toddler. Bobby doesn’t know about bedtime stories, but Sam’s coaxed into eating chicken and beans easily enough by Dean.

It’s convenient. On the other hand, it’s just a little unnerving to see how Dean follows Sam around religiously.

Either sibling relationships have changed since Bobby was younger, or John Winchester has a lot to answer for.

\---

Bobby wakes up the next morning to the sound of panic-inducing beeps and wonders why, exactly, he’d set his alarm for the first time in years.

Then he hears clanging in the kitchen, remembers the situation, and swears. He does remember to pull on a pair of jeans before he dashes out-- traumatizing a kid with his hairy legs seems like a bad idea.

Dean’s in the kitchen, standing on tiptoe to crack eggs into a bowl. Bobby stops and stares. The boy looks like he knows what he’s doing, but he’s  _ seven _ .

“Dean,” Bobby barks.

Dean flinches, his shoulders curling inward. Bobby shuts up.

_ Shit _ . Bobby has to close his eyes. He’d had that same reaction when his father talked. 

This is why he hadn’t had kids.

“Dean,” Bobby says, making an effort to keep his voice mild, “What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast, sir,” Dean says, his eyes fixed over Bobby’s shoulder.

Bobby inhales silently. “I appreciate the sentiment, son,” Bobby says slowly. “But it isn’t safe for you to be cooking on your own.”

Dean looks mutinous. “I gotta feed Sammy.”

_ Of course you do. _

“Tell you what,” Bobby says. “I’ll take over the cooking and you can get your brother up, hmm?”

Dean hesitates.

“You don’t need to do everything while you’re under my roof, Dean,” Bobby says, and  _ oh _ , he wants to have words with these kids’ daddy.

\---

John pulls into Singer Salvage a week and a half later and something unidentifiable rises in Bobby’s chest seeing how the boys light up at the sound of the Impala. They’re not afraid of him, that’s one thing.

“Thanks for watching ‘em,” John says as the boys pack up. “They give you any trouble?”

“Nah,” Bobby says, truthfully. “They were just fine. You can leave ‘em with me again, I don’t mind.”

Dean had stopped calling Bobby “sir” and started calling him “Uncle Bobby” after Bobby took him and Sam out for ice cream. Sam had insisted Bobby read to him from a book of angel lore on before the kid would go to sleep.

No, Bobby doesn’t mind having the boys around.

“I might. See ya around, Singer,” John says, starting towards the car as the boys rush out of the house clutching their duffel bags.

They both hug Bobby fast before they pile into the Impala. Then the Winchesters are gone, the sound of the Impala fading into the distance.

Somehow the house seems a little too quiet for the next few days.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time Bobby sees Sam and Dean, Dean’s ten, Sam’s seven, it’s been eleven years since Karen died, and not much has really changed. Dean still keeps an eye on Sam all the time, Sam still chatters to fill Dean’s silences, but they’re both bigger and Dean talks a little more.

Sam throws himself at Bobby’s legs, yelling “Uncle Bobby!” the second the Impala stops. Dean doesn’t offer a hug, but he does offer a quiet “hey, Uncle Bobby,” and that’s just as good. He doesn’t hold Sam’s hand, but they still stand shoulder to shoulder. 

John gets out of the car and Bobby notes with rising concern how Dean’s back goes stiff.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” John says shortly. “Dean needs to work on his aim with a rifle.” John’s looking at Bobby but addressing Dean. Then he’s gone.

“He’ll be back, right?” Sam asks Dean. Bobby feels his eyebrows shoot up. 

“Course, Sammy,” Dean says. When his brother looks away Bobby sees Dean’s jaw clench.

Bobby cooks Karen’s best meatloaf recipe that night, and when his alarm goes off the next morning, both boys are still sound asleep.

\---

Bobby figures John doesn’t do much kid stuff with Sam and Dean so he takes them to a fair a few hours away and smiles to himself when he sees their disbelieving faces.

By the end of the day, Dean’s smiling, Sam’s beaming, and Bobby’s been dragged on far more rides than he intended to go on. He graciously submitted to being dragged into a photo booth and he’s got the strips of photos tucked into his wallet.

The boys are asleep by the time the three of them make it home and Bobby carefully carries both of them upstairs. Dean barely stirs and Sam clings to Bobby’s neck sleepily.

Bobby tugs off their shoes, smoothes Sam’s unruly hair out of his face, and closes his guest bedroom door quietly behind him.

Bobby just hopes all that fair food won’t rot their teeth overnight. 

\---

The next afternoon Bobby leaves Sam on his couch with the first Chronicles of Narnia book-- Bobby had gone into town and bought the whole series after John had called-- and calls Dean outside. The kid comes out with a wary expression that sends a pang through Bobby’s chest.

Bobby tosses him the baseball. Dean catches it automatically. 

“Dad said I was supposed to work on my rifle aim.”

Bobby swallows down a few choice words about John Winchester. “Well, right now you’re gonna play catch, like any other snot-nosed kid.”

Dean looks conflicted. Bobby lobs the ball at him and Dean decides to forget about rifle practice.

They toss the ball back and forth for a while. Dean’s got a good arm for a kid. Bobby wonders if he’s ever thought about playing baseball or something and remembers how often John moves the kids around.

“I nearly got Sam killed,” Dean blurts.

Bobby drops the ball and stares at him. Dean keeps talking. “I left Sam alone and I went to the arcade and the striga was going to get him before Dad came in and the striga got away and it’s my fault and Dad left and it’s all my fault!”

Dean’s gasping for air by the time he finishes his sentence. Bobby is not prepared for this at all but he goes with his gut instinct and pulls Dean into a hug.

“It’s not your fault, Dean,” he says. Bobby feels Dean shake his head, even as he clings onto Bobby.

“It’s not,” Bobby repeats firmly.

If Dean’s eyes are a little red when they go back to playing catch, Bobby doesn’t say anything.

\---

John comes back after three days this time. When he parks the Impala, it’s close to ten at night and Bobby’s waiting for him on the porch with his arms crossed.

“The boys do something?” John asks, scowling. 

“No,” Bobby says. “They were just fine, apart from they thought you weren’t coming back.”

Bobby has never been a very petty man, but the flash of guilt that goes across John’s face gives him a small amount of satisfaction.

“Shit,” John mutters, scrubbing his hand through his hair. Dean does the exact same thing when Sam’s being difficult. “Really?”

“Dean’s convinced you’re never going to trust him again.” Dean hadn’t said as much, but Bobby can read between the lines.

“ _ Shit, _ ” John repeats. 

“Yeah.” Bobby isn’t inclined to forgive John just yet, but he softens slightly at the authentic devastation on the man’s face. “Want a beer?”

The two men wind up out on the porch steps.

“I don’t know what else to do with ‘em, Singer,” John confesses, taking a swig of his beer. “Dean never complains, adores Sammy, I thought…”

“He’s  _ ten _ , John,” Bobby snaps. He’s never been able to stand this kind of self-excusing bullshit. His daddy had always had some sort of excuse for knocking him around too. ( _ You get to just hang around all day while I’m at work, you don’t appreciate everything I do, stop crying you’re giving me a headache--) _ “He ain’t a babysitter, he’s a  _ kid _ .”

John turns on Bobby with violence in his expression. Bobby doesn’t back down. He’s not afraid of Winchester, ex-marine or not. 

Bobby doesn’t have to test himself against John, thankfully, because John slumps back against a porch column and drains the rest of his beer. “You’re right, damn it. But what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“You could leave them with me,” Bobby offers. The words are out before he has time to think about them.

John snorts, clearly not even considering it. Bobby isn’t sure if he’s disappointed or relieved. “They’re staying with me. They’re my sons.”

John sleeps on the couch. In the morning, the Winchesters drive off, but before they do, Bobby gets a quick hug each from the boys and a gruff “thanks, Bobby,” from John.

The next time Bobby goes into the Sioux Falls bookstore, he picks up the full Lord of the Rings series, plus The Hobbit. He hasn’t had much need for kid’s books but Sam was already through the third book of the Chronicles of Narnia. Seemed like a good idea to stock up for when the boys would be back.

Bobby isn’t a father, never had any kids although he’d read parenting books back when Karen had still been trying to get him to trust himself enough to have a whole houseful. Back before… well. Before.

So yeah, Bobby doesn’t claim to be a father, let alone a good one. But from what he’s seen of what he’s starting to think of as his boys, John Winchester may be a father, but he ain’t a good one.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s been nearly a year and a half since their last visit when John brings Sam and Dean to Singer Salvage again. It’s early January and John actually bothers to come inside for a while. John’s got that same look of guilt whenever he looks at the boys, they’re not looking at him, and Bobby can’t shake the feeling something terrible has happened.

“I’ll be back within two weeks,” he tells Bobby, already heading for the Impala. “Got a potential skinchanger down in Colorado and then I’m looking around for schools.” The schools bit is directed at Sam, who looks unappeased.

“Be good, boys,” John says awkwardly. Then he’s gone out the door.

Bobby’s kitchen is filled with silence. Sam stares at Bobby and demands, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Bobby’s eyebrows furrow.  _ What…? _

“Sammy…” Dean starts. 

“Everyone knew but me, Dean! I’m sick of everybody lying!” Sam storms up the stairs, which is less dramatic than he probably thinks it is, given that he’s all of eight.

“Sorry,” Dean says after Sam slams the guest room door behind him. “He found out about what you and Dad do on Christmas.”

“On Christmas?”  _ Jesus. _

“Yeah.” Dean shrugs and keeps his eyes on the floor. He’s getting big now but sitting at Bobby’s scarred wooden table he seems younger than twelve, somehow. “Dad wasn’t around and I went out to get food. Sammy found Dad’s journal, and…” Dean trails off.

Bobby realizes, somewhat shamefully, that he had never thought about what Sam knew. Dean had made it so easy to forget that Bobby had to worry about that. Dean made it so easy to forget that he was just a kid himself.

“I see.” Bobby chews on that one for a few seconds. “That why your daddy left you here?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighs. “Sammy’s upset. Maybe if Dad had made it back for Christmas it wouldn’t be this bad, but...”

Bobby lays a hand on his shoulder. There doesn’t seem to be anything else to say. 

\---’

Bobby brings up The Hobbit to Sam after he gets Dean settled watching TV. Sam’s curled up on his side staring out the window. 

“I didn’t mean to keep things from you, son,” Bobby tells Sam’s back, even though that’s kind of exactly what he had meant to do.

Sam sits up. Even with his hair falling in his eyes, he looks a lot older than he did a year and a half ago. “That’s okay, Uncle Bobby. It’s not really your fault.” 

Bobby hands him The Hobbit and smiles in response to the kid’s gap-toothed grin.

\---

Bobby leaves the boys at the movie theater with money for two tickets each and snacks and warns them to save room for dinner. Then he buys a turkey and some potatoes and eggnog and pie and does his best to pull together a decent Christmas dinner. Karen would have done better-- she was such a good cook, was always so patient with him-- but Bobby thinks he did okay, all things considered.

He wraps The Lord of the Rings for Sam and Slaughterhouse-Five for Dean, hoping the older boy will like his present. 

The boys are waiting for him when he goes back to the theater. They pile into the backseat and Sam babbles excitedly while Dean informs Bobby solemnly of all of the coolest parts.

When the boys see the food, Sam lights up, and Dean opens and closes his mouth.

“Wash your hands first,” Bobby tells them gruffly.

They nearly knock each other over in the race to the sink.

\---

The three of them are watching A Charlie Brown Christmas and eating dessert, the boys’ presents safely in their duffels, when Dean declares that he loves pie more than anything else. Sam nudges him to be quiet.

\---

When the sound of John Winchester’s car breaks into Bobby’s second frisbee game with Dean, Bobby’s pretty sure Dean’s almost as disappointed as he is.

“See ya, Uncle Bobby,” Dean says as he lugs his bag to the Impala. Sam gives him a hug and they’re gone.

“Winchesters,” Bobby says to his empty kitchen, shaking his head.


	4. Chapter 4

Bobby sees John a few times after that, mostly at the Roadhouse, and he hears from him whenever he runs into something new. But he doesn’t see the kids until Dean’s sixteen and Sam’s twelve. 

Bobby is completely unprepared when he gets the call. 

“Yeah,” he grunts into the phone, only half paying attention. He’s almost done with a book of Japanese lore and he’s invested in learning about ghost sickness

“Bobby? It’s Dean,” he hears, and Bobby straightens up fast. 

“What’s wrong, son?” Because there is something wrong, no way Dean would be making this call otherwise.

Dean exhales shakily. Bobby can hear the sound of the highway over the phone and he says, “Dean, tell me you’re not driving.”

Dean starts to respond and Sam must grab the phone-- Bobby just barely catches an indignant  _ damn it, Sammy _ before Sam’s voice is on the line. “Bobby, Dad’s getting taken to the hospital in Sioux Falls. Is there any way we can--”

“Idjits, of course you can stay with me,” Bobby barks, keeping the phone in the crook of his shoulder as he pulls on his boots. “I’ll go down to the hospital, see if I can deal with any insurance problems. How bad is he?”

Sam doesn’t respond. Bobby nods to himself. “The key to the house is in the glove box of the blue mustang to the left. I’ll update you when I get there.”

Bobby hangs up and dashes for the door. Then he stops, goes into his room, and leaves the boys’ books on the kitchen table before getting into his car.

\---

When he gets home three hours later Bobby opens his door and finds a gun in his face. He restrains his initial violent reaction and says, “It’s me, Dean.”

The gun lowers and Bobby finds himself staring at a teenager who’s barely recognizable as Dean Winchester. Bobby had been right when he’d thought the kid would be real popular once he grew up. 

The only thing marring the kid’s charm is the hell of a shiner he’s sporting. 

Bobby wouldn’t give it much mind-- Dean’s a fighter and a scammer by now, more or less-- except Dean’s knuckles aren’t bruised at all.

“Sorry, Bobby,” Dean mutters, flushing slightly. He flicks the safety on and places the gun carefully onto the kitchen table. “I…”

“S’all right, son,” Bobby says, and he’s amazed at how evenly his voice comes out. “I understand you got reason to be wary. Where’s Sam?”

“In here,” Sam calls, his voice drifting out of Bobby’s living room. “Did you know demons probably don’t see colors?”

“Yup. I’d skip chapter sixteen in that one, though, it gets boring.”

Sam makes a vague sound of acknowledgment. Dean chuckles affectionately.

“We’ll never see Sammy again. He’ll just disappear into your library and be one with the books.”

Sam says something that sounds insulting which Dean just grins at.

Bobby doesn’t want to ruin the brief moment of peace but Dean asks, feigning casualty, “How’s Dad?”

Bobby reaches into the fridge for a beer and twists the cap off. “That cut on his back’s gone septic. They’re dumping antibiotics into him. Wouldn’t let me see him. I got the insurance dealt with.”

Dean nods tightly. Bobby notes that he’s wearing John’s leather jacket even though it’s gotta be at least sixty-five in here.

“He’ll be fine, Dean,” Bobby says. 

Dean’s jaw clenches as he looks away. “Yeah.”

_ Until I get to him, at least, _ Bobby adds silently.

\---

Sam takes a few books upstairs after dinner, ignoring Dean’s teasing with all of the wounded dignity of a preteen. Bobby waits until he hears the guest bedroom door shut before he grabs two beers and shoves a bag of frozen peas into Dean’s hand.

“We’re gonna sit at the table, and we’re gonna talk. And you’re gonna tell me the truth about your eye, Dean.”

Dean opens his mouth to protest. Bobby stares him down until Dean sits down with the face of a man facing the gallows.

Dean takes a long swallow of beer, puts the peas to his eye, and says, “I deserved it.”

Beneath the table, Bobby’s hands curl into tight fists. 

“I messed up,” Dean continues, keeping his eyes on his beer. “I messed up, and someone nearly died, and Dad clocked me one. Then he sent me back to the hotel because I’m useless and then he nearly got himself killed. That’s what happened.”

Bobby forces himself to take a deep breath before he blows up. His anger is in no way directed at the boy in front of him but if he lets it show now it may look like it is.

“This the first time this has happened?”

Dean doesn’t answer, just takes another sip.

“All right,” Bobby says calmly. His voice must tip Dean off to something because the kid looks alarmed.

“It’s all right, Bobby. Like I said, I deserved it, it’s fine--”

“Nothing about this is fine,” Bobby whispers. “Nothing, you understand? It ain’t  _ fine _ for your daddy to drag you all around the country. It ain’t  _ fine _ to put all this shit on you. It ain’t  _ fine _ for him to hit you!”

He’s almost yelling by the time he stops talking. Dean’s shoulders are curled in, Sam’s coming down the stairs, and Bobby curses himself.

“Everything’s fine, Sammy,” Dean tells his brother. “Bobby’s just got real strong opinions on foreign cars.”

Bobby can tell Sam doesn’t believe Dean. Sam’s eyes flicker over the scene the two of them present and linger on Dean’s eye and the bag of peas he’s holding to it.

“Sure,” he says, and he goes back upstairs.

“Sam know?” Bobby asks.

Dean shrugs.

“Prob’ly. He’s a smart kid.”

“Yeah.”

They drink in silence.

“I can’t leave Sammy, Bobby.”

“I know,” Bobby says, and he puts a hand on Dean’s arm as Dean’s shoulders start to shake. “I know, Dean.”

\---

Dean takes the Impala into town the next morning. Bobby worries, but he keeps that to himself.

He and Sam are reading in his living room, Bobby occasionally answering his phones, when Sam says, “I don’t want to be a hunter.”

Bobby very carefully does not react. He turns a page of his book. “Then you don’t have to be.”

“Dad says I do,” Sam says, matter-of-factly enough that Bobby knows Sam has had this conversation with John.

“Your daddy ain’t always right, Sam,” Bobby says. “You don’t have to be a hunter if you don’t want to be. Hell, if you wind up living a normal life, I’ll come visit you. Tell the story of how you nearly puked on that poor lady at the fair after you ate too much cotton candy.”

Sam glares at him. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh yes I would. And how you used to speak Elvish.”

Sam cringes and Bobby has to laugh.

“You mean it?” Sam’s question is quiet enough Bobby almost doesn’t hear it.

“Of course, kid. Go to law school. Become a teacher. Become a business tycoon who buys islands. If you want to do something else then do it. Just make sure you tell me where to visit sometime.”

“Not if you’re going to tell those stories about me,” Sam mutters, but Bobby thinks the kid’s a little less tense.

\---

When John Winchester gets out of the hospital, he calls Bobby’s to let them know and takes a taxi to Singer Salvage. Bobby waits until the boys have their bags and the taxi’s gone to thumb the safety off his shotgun and level it at John Winchester’s chest. 

“I know you gave that shiner to Dean,” Bobby says. “I ever see you again, I’ll shoot you. You understand me?”

John nods, his face hard, his hand twitching towards where his handgun must be stashed. Bobby addresses the boys without moving his head.

“Sam, Dean, you’re welcome to call or drop in any time. No matter what your daddy says. You hear?”

Dean stares at Bobby, eyes wide. Sam says, “Yeah, Bobby, we got it,” for both of them. John shoots Sam a look of rage and Dean steps in front of his brother, mutters “come on, Dad.”

The Winchesters peel out of Singer Salvage in a cloud of dust with Dean driving. Bobby lowers his shotgun as they go and wonders if he should feel this sad that after all these years nothing’s changed. Sam still has to talk for Dean, Dean still has to protect Sam, and John Winchester is still a good for nothing son of a bitch.

Bobby wonders if he’ll ever see his boys again.

He hopes so.


End file.
